


At the Zoo

by merciki



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, TW: Death of an animal, Zoo, tw: PTSD, tw: death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-19
Updated: 2017-08-06
Packaged: 2018-11-16 00:37:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11242626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merciki/pseuds/merciki
Summary: Meet Peeta Mellark, cameraman, on a new mission: Film the every day life of the Panem's Arrowtown Zoo.There, he will meet a number of zookeepers, including a dark-haired falconer named Katniss.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> My huge thanks to xerxia and dandelion-sunset for looking at this story - for the beta skills and for the help in what happens in later chapters . (I can't tell, obviously.)  
> Huge thanks to akai-echo for the art on the chapters - it's amazingly awesome.
> 
> Expect updates every monday - this is a prologue :)

 

_I draw because it gets the images out of my head._

 

_Bombs. Dead bodies. Limbs scattered around. Someone had to report them. That someone was me. I witnessed so many horrors in just a few months, I'm not sure I have enough tears left for the rest of my life._

 

_Shouts and cries. Adults and kids, all dead._

 

_Dead._

 

_And the world couldn’t care less._

 

_With my fellow journalists, we spent a year around Kabul._

 

_I came back. They didn’t._

 

_Someone had to report the news. We did it. Nobody cared, because Kim K was pregnant._

 

_I lost my friends._

 

_I lost my tears._

 

_I lost my leg in fucking Afghanistan._

 

_I think I lost my hopes, too._

 

He closed the document on his laptop, not caring about the tears falling. Care was for another Peeta Mellark, the one that embarked on a plane eighteen months ago, who was full of hopes and dreams of Pulitzer Prizes.

 

He wasn’t that Peeta anymore.

 

His phone chimed next to him. He grabbed it and opened the text from a Ms Trinket, confirming that they had to be at the Arrowtown Zoo tomorrow at 9:00. They, as in the team assembled for a crazy reality TV program called A Season at the Zoo. As if someone would be interested in following the-oh so thrilling adventures of zebras or the day to day life of sea lions.

  
But it would be his first job since coming back. He had to start somewhere.

 

He let his phone drop on the table in front of him, and rose from the couch, heading straight to the adjoining room, where he had established his studio. He had drawings to do.


	2. Pavo cristatus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First day of work for Peeta in the Arrowtown zoo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge, huge thanks to xerxia for her awesome betaing skills ;) My friend, I would have stopped writing long ago if it wasn't for you.  
> To dandelion-sunset, you know I was frightened by this story - thank you for pushing me out of my comfort zone :)
> 
> Aesthetics - have you seen how gorgeous they are ? this is the incredible, awesome work of akai-echo who has so much talent, class and skills i'm left speechless every time she does something for me :)
> 
> And as usual, reviews, comments truly make my day :)

 

“It’s going to be a big, big, big day!!” the woman in front of Peeta giggled, in a bright blue suit and oversized jacket. She apparently was in charge of communication, but the only things she was communicating at the moment were headaches and too much perfume. Walking on high heels, her steps as big as her skirt would allow, she commented on everything they saw. Even the signs at each one of the crossroads. Or why the trash bins were green. Important questions.

 

Peeta followed his co-workers through the maze that was the Zoo, passing by the big monkeys and some strange birds, until the whole crew from Capitol TV reached a brick building that stood out in the sea of green and bamboos, in front of which people wearing zoo uniforms were waiting. They formed small groups, a mass of brown cargo pants and gray tee-shirts, with radios clipped to their belts or the big pockets, buzzing periodically.

 

Peeta stayed a bit apart with the group of journalists and technicians, not wanting to mix with the crowd of zookeepers in front of him.

 

“This is a strange place.” A tattooed man with too many piercing to count held out his hand to Peeta. “I’m Preston Oakfield, but I go by Castor. Sound.”

 

“Peeta Mellark. Camera.” Peeta took the extended hand and shook it, almost relieved to have someone to talk to besides the strange woman who had led them here.

 

“It’s weird being here, right? I mean, who is going to watch a story about a zoo?” Castor asked, hoisting up the strap of his bag. “But well, it’s three months of work, right?”

 

“Right.” Peeta agreed, not wanted to talk too much about it. A three month job was unexpected for him at this point in his career, and he felt the nerves starting to creep up his body at the prospect of using a camera again.

 

“Ahum, is this working?” The peacock lady was now in front of the building, tapping the mic in front of her, the noise reverberating through the loudspeakers that had been installed. “Well, Little Teddy says it’s okay, so…” Peeta saw the woman take a deep breath before leaning against the mike.

 

“My name is Effie Trinket and I’m the Zoo Head of Communications. As you all know, we’re having new friends join us today for three months! They will be filming you every day, even on the weekends, so please give a warm welcome to the journalists from Capitol TV!”

 

Effie clapped, looking straight at the group on the edge of the crowd. Peeta knew the eyes were trained on everyone, but he couldn't help sweating as he tried not to count... how many people were there. He felt Exposed.

 

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath to calm his mind, remembering the mantra Dr Aurelius made him memorize. _My name is Peeta Mellark. I’m twenty-six years old. I come from Panem, VA. My family owns a bakery. I just came back from Afghanistan where I lost my leg and my friends. To bake cinnamon rolls, you have to just add a touch of rum to the dough to make it better. My name is Peeta Mellark._

 

The words were soothing, even if they were only coming from his mind and he was the only one hearing them. They were a certainty, in a world that had become a permanent threat, something he could hang on to in the wee hours of the morning, when sleep evaded him.

 

“Come, come, come, introduce yourselves!” Effie’s voice rang in the microphone in front of her, as the group of TV-people started to move, Castor pulling at Peeta’s arm to come with them. They reluctantly walked towards the front of the crowd, regrouping into the three-persons teams that would work together for a few months. Peeta joined Castor and a strange woman, who had half her skull shaved and tattooed, and a lot of piercings.

  
As Effie introduced the two other teams of journalists first, Peeta took his time scanning the zookeepers in front of him, so many different people and personalities gathered there. He could already spot the shy ones, trying their best to remain unseen behind taller people, the cocky ones, that guy with bronze hair was a sure winner, or the brooding kind like the tall dark man with his arms crossed over his chest, a smaller woman at his side, a scowl etched on her face.

 

Peeta looked again at the woman in front of him. There was something about her that held his attention, something he couldn’t pinpoint right now. She was beautiful, but he had seen more beautiful bodies, or lusher hair, and women who smiled.

 

“Well, just call me Castor - it’s easier.”

 

“Thank you, dear! And now to the next - and last - member of the crew!”

 

Peeta felt a tap on his shoulder, as Castor passed by him to regain his former place, before noticing all eyes were on him

 

He reluctantly moved towards the microphone, rubbing his sweaty palms on his bleached jeans, starting his mantra yet again. It was  the third time today.

 

“Hi, guys, well, I’m Peeta, and I’m a cameraman and I’m looking forward to working with you.” He tried to smile as much as he could, even if it was difficult. Dr A had told him to start smiling more months ago. Here, nobody knew him. Maybe he could try to find who he used to be. After all, what harm could come from a zoo?

 

“Well, well, we should get started, right? Crew one is to follow Annie today… Annie, dear, where are you?” Effie looked at the crowd gathered until she spotted a tiny brown haired woman raising her hand, almost shyly. “Here she is, our favorite veterinarian! Come, come, dear”

 

Peeta could practically hear the sigh of the vet from where he was - a solid twenty feet away, that almost, _almost_ brought a genuine smile to his lips. He looked as Annie greeted her crew from Capitol TV before walking away, already talking to the journalist, Messallah.

 

 

“Wonderful! Crew Two, you will be with Finnick. Where are-” Effie couldn’t even finish her question when a man stepped in, all dimples and bronze hair, green eyes shining in the morning.

 

“Want a sugar cube?” he asked the crew that had been appointed to work with him that day, holding out his hand on which were a couple of the treats.

 

“One rule, though - this is for human consumption. Nothing for the animals.” Finnick said, before shaking the hands of the journalists. Peeta noticed how the woman, Lavinia or Octavia he couldn’t remember, looked at Finnick, ogling him from top to bottom shamelessly. They were soon on their way, opposite from where Annie had gone, already chatting together.

 

Peeta watched them leaving to the sound of Finnick’s laughter, before his attention turned back to the zookeepers in front of him. Who would he be assigned to? The calm man with chocolate skin, or the spiky-haired brunette with a lot of piercings playing with her swiss army knife? The perky young blonde woman, or the tall one who was eating sunflower seeds? Or would it be the brunette with the silver eyes, her arms crossed over her chest, her scowl deepening with every passing minute.

 

“And finally, last but not least, the third crew will be with Gale, our Animal Curator. Gale, darling, can you come over here?”

 

Peeta hefted the bag with his camera inside, looking at the zookeepers going away, already grabbing their walkie-talkies, fading into the alleys of the zoo, until only two people remained in front of them - the tall dark haired man, and the woman Peeta had noticed earlier- whispering to each other before they finally parted, sharing a hug. Then the man walked towards them.

 

“I’m Gale,” he said sharply, not even extending his hand. “I guess you’ll stay with me all day. See if you guys can survive a full day of work. Let’s go, hope you don’t mind ruining your shoes.”

 

“Gale!” Effie chimed in, coming towards the man in the strides her tight pencil skirt allowed. “You do not need to be all animalistic! You’d better behave!”

 

“Or what, you’ll tell Haymitch?” Gale snarked.

 

“Worse.” Effie smirked, before adding. “I’ll tell Madge.”

 

“Effie…” Gale’s voice had lost all pretence of being intimidating.

 

“We’ll see how kind you are when you have to sleep on the couch for two weeks. Now, shall we?”

 

Peeta could see the spark in Effie’s eyes as she motioned for Gale to move over, before she turned in a flurry of blue and green, her hair never moving as she left on her too high heels towards the administrative building.

 

“So. I’m Gale, the animal curator. Which means I’m in charge of all the animals, reproduction programs with the vet, and exhibitions. You’re going to follow me and film whatever you feel like filming then. Ready?”

 

Without waiting for their answer, Gale turned in the opposite direction from Effie, all the while talking.

 

 

“I’ll show you around quickly, then I have to go help sexing the baby wallabies. Is that okay for you?”

 

Peeta exchanged glances with his teammates, and at their nods, he grabbed his camera from his bag. It felt strange at first to be holding the device again, to feel the weight of it on his shoulder, to realize his fingers still knew where to push or pull, which buttons to use.

 

But more importantly, it felt good.

 

\--

Hard.

 

The job was harder than Peeta had thought it would be. Gale literally spent his day pacing the zoo, back and forth, going from helping in the marine department find out if the arctic wolves had mated, to the other side of the park, checking on the giraffes with Johanna - the spiky-haired brunette in charge of the beasts together with lions and leopards too - to check on the impending arrival of a new male in the coming weeks, then running to the petting farm to sex the wallabies.

 

 

They went to the petting farm, and Peeta had every intention of filming that part then heading back to the cafeteria to eat.

 

But the wallabies had other ideas. Apparently, they didn’t like being grabbed by their tails and lifted to discover whether they had a pouch or not. Peeta quickly discovered the animals would fight back. And as if it wasn’t difficult enough to film moving animals, outside, he had to take care of where you put your feet, because yes, the prairie was mined with poop. He had to film while said wallabies were boxing back, with their feet.

 

To Peeta, it was so surreal watching all of this happening. His mind couldn’t help but go back to places where there was laughter too, even if often, it was covered by the explosions or the sounds of planes above them. The push of an alpaca quickly brought him back to Arrowtown though, in the middle of a prairie, with actual llama drool on his shirt. Or alpaca. Or whatever.

 

When they were finally done, Annie and her crew leaving the prairie to go to an emergency involving a marmoset, they followed Gale to the cafeteria, where they were able to sit for a few moments. Peeta welcomed the relief, his prosthetic making his skin itch under his jeans, as rivulets of sweat kept coming under the liner protecting his stump.

“Hope you’re not tired yet. We still have a lot to do this afternoon. And there will be visitors too so we’ll have to be extra careful with your big camera,” Gale said before taking a bite of his sandwich.

 

Peeta was about to answer when the silver-eyed woman who had captivated him that morning came rushing in, her long dark braid bouncing on her shoulder as she ran to the head zookeeper.

 

“Gale! It’s rascal ! She escaped!”

 

Peeta was wondering what rascal had escaped where, who the rascal was, when Gale jumped from his chair, grabbed his sandwich and turned to him. “Mellark, grab your things, we’re going hunting.”

 

 _Hunting?_ Peeta thougth. _I thought zoos were to protect the animals?_

 

\---

It turned out that hunting wasn’t really hunting, per se.

 

And that the rascal was actually Aska, a beautiful snowy owl that had flown away from the bird sector into the countryside surrounding the zoo.

 

Which meant they had to hunt down a bird, in the hopes he would willingly want to come onto the big leather falconer glove instead of wandering the woods, as Gale explained, while they all hurried to the other end of the zoo.

 

Peeta was already tired. His leg hurt more than he was willing to admit, his back was drenched in sweat at carrying his camera and avoiding the contact with the animals, and his mind - maybe his mind was the least problematic part right now, surprisingly. Having to focus himself as well as the camera on the animals or their keepers who kept moving around, attending to their tasks had kept everything else at bay.

 

They soon reached the aviary, where Gale was apparently expected.  Three people, among which the brunette Peeta had seen at the welcoming speech were ready to go, carrying a rather large GPS receiver.

 

“You got a signal?” Gale asked the man in front of him, who was checking something on the radar of the GPS.

 

“Nothing yet. But Mike said he saw him fly away southwest.”

 

“He’ll go northeast,” the young woman with the braid said in an authoritatively voice, before turning to grab a set of keys from the counter nearby.

 

“Mike said…” Gale tried to counter.

 

“Mike is good at technical stuff, I’m good in birds. I’m heading northeast,” she answered, gathering her things before heading to the door of the aviary.

 

“Katniss…”

 

“Don’t _Katniss_ me, Gale, I’m heading northeast. She’ll follow the wind,” she added, pointing at a weathervane just outside the now open door.

 

The tip of the old, rusty vane was pointing northeast.

 

Gale followed her, along with the two other people from the aviary. Peeta was exchanging looks with Castor and their journalist, wondering whether or not they should follow, when Gale turned back to them, asking.

 

“Aren’t you supposed to shadow us? Unless you’re afraid of a bumpy ride in a 4x4?”

 

 _If only he knew how many bumpy rides I’ve been on_ , Peeta thought, trying to not let the memories of another place, months ago, invade his mind. Too many rides in four-wheelers, under the too shiny sun of Afghanistan.

 

“Oh, we’re in, handsome!” Cressida answered excitedly for the three of them, grabbing her things, and ushering Castor and Peeta to follow them out.

 

“I guess we’re on a hunt for a big white owl…” Castor said.

 

Well, that made a nice change from the hunt for big bad guys.

 

\---

 

Night had fallen when Peeta got back to his room, muscles sore from the exhaustion, his shirt thick with sweat, his stump hurting from the hours he had spent with the zoo crew looking for an owl.

 

Said owl who had decided not to come down from the oak tree they had finally found her in, regarding the falconers with disdain. Nobody could make her move from her perch at the top of the tree.

 

They gave up when night fell, hoping they would be more lucky catching her the next day.

 

Peeta’s crew had been the last to leave the park, long after the official closing hour, long after the two others teams. They had all met later at the hotel’s bar, all excited about their day, all having stories to share.

 

Peeta had excused himself as soon as he had finished his beer, telling them he had phone calls to make - which was at least partly true. Because as he contemplated the ceiling, he knew full well he should call Dr. A to tell him about his day, to share his feelings about his first day back to work, but all he could think of were animals.

 

And a pair of grey eyes.

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 2: Giraffa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The routine of working at the Zoo has helped Peeta.
> 
> Until....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This was one of the toughest things I had to write. Worst than A Candle for Panem . There are Triggers Warnings in the tags, please read them before anything. I’m not kidding here. It’s Okay to hate me after this, I’ll understand. Please know, though, writing this made me cry so ... Be kind on the hate.
> 
> My deepest thanks to @xerxia31 for taking on the burden to beta this. I don’t know how you do it, understand what I mean even when when I don’t always :)
> 
> To @dandelion-sunset, thank you for betaing and holding my hand when I wanted to delete these lines.
> 
> To @akai-echo, my beautiful, talented friend - I can’ thank you enough for the works of art you created that are a perfect compliment to the fic. Thank you so so much !
> 
> To the chapter, now - but please, PLEASE, read the tags.
> 
> Comments, reviews are always welcomed.

 

 

  1. **Giraffa**



 

The first thing Peeta noticed when he arrived at the zoo that morning was the rush. Everybody was in a hurry, running around like nothing he had seen the previous weeks. And he had seen a lot -ights between the white tigers for dominance, the otters’ medical training, the way the keepers cared about the animals every day, going to lengths to occupy and entertain them in their pens.

 

The way Katniss’s braid moved across her back when she jumped over the little wooden fences to go into the performance area.

 

He knew there was no way anything could happen between them - she was too beautiful and free, he was too broken and damaged. But he couldn’t help himself, couldn’t help the way his eyes lingered a bit too long on her thin frame, how his ears perked when he heard her voice, or the way his hand moved across the paper, endlessly trying to draw her.

 

“Peet? You there?” Castor’s voice took him out of his thoughts and into the present. They were supposed to follow Johanna that day, the keeper who was in charge of the beasts and the herd of giraffes as well, but she was nowhere to be seen.

 

“Yeah, sorry, zoned out,” Peeta answered his co-worker, before making sure he had all of his equipment ready to start filming. “I’m good. Where’s Jo?”

 

Cressida shrugged, looking around, no doubt to see if anyone was approaching. “No clue. Lions?” she suggested, as they all knew it was one of Jo’s first stops on her daily tour. “If she’s not there, we wait at the giraffes? That girl is a pain in our asses, really.”

 

It wouldn’t be the first time they had to go and find the fierce keeper on their own.

 

Peeta kept his thoughts to himself. Where the others saw Johanna’s behaviour as annoying, he could see past the barriers, could feel the pain and hurt she tried to hide from the others. But it wasn’t his story to share - he could completely understand her closing off from the prying eyes of a camera that could see much more than what you wanted to give it.

 

They started walking towards the lions’ when they were stopped in their tracks by Finnick.

 

“You guys aren’t coming?”

 

“Where should we go?” Cressida asked, puzzled.

 

“Dioni is about to give birth!”

 

After weeks of walking the park alleys, spending time with the keepers and the animals, they knew who Dioni was - and why people were hurrying.

 

Dioni was about to give birth to her first baby giraffe.

 

The first one to be born in the zoo in fifteen years.

 

Something they should be there to film.

 

They rushed to the center of the park, avoiding the visitors, the adrenaline running high in their veins as they took the familiar path towards the giraffes’ pen. Because really, how many times in your life could you witness a giraffe giving birth?

 

Peeta felt the same rush in his veins as when he was on a ground of operations, when grenades were thrown, bullets flying all around him, when the ground was shaking with the force of the bombs - whose, he couldn’t tell - when fear was threatening to overtake him once and for all.

 

But he couldn’t let those memories come back, couldn’t deal with them now. He had a job to do - film the birth of a baby giraffe, welcome life into the world, instead of witnessing death over and over again.

 

The team reached the pen where the gigantic animals, calm and quiet, were wandering around, searching for food. It would be just an ordinary day, if not for the two little legs coming out of Dioni’s vulva.

 

“You’re filming, Peeta, right? You got this?”  Cressida asked without even looking at him, fascinated by what was happening in front of them.

 

Peeta nodded, for himself mainly, as he focused the lens of his camera on the upcoming birth.

 

One by one, the zookeepers from other areas came by, if only to just catch a glimpse of the long-awaited giraffe - who was really taking his time coming into the world.

 

Peeta had long switched to filming the crew of zookeepers that had gathered around the pen - all the  teams filming the birth  from different angles - when he spotted something on Annie’s face. The veterinarian’s expression had changed from earlier, when it was all about bets about the sex of the baby giraffe - to being seriously concerned now. Peeta focused his camera on her, seeing how she moved closer to Gale, exchanging words in whispers between concerned looks at Dioni, before finally the head zookeeper nodded.

 

Gale went to the band of workers, gathering them one after the other, until they formed a circle around him, along with Peeta and Castor.

 

“We’ll close the park now. It’s past closing time, and we can’t have visitors here at night. I need you to explain that Dioni needs privacy to give birth - and she’ll do that inside the stables. Then you go back to your chores and finish. I’ll have a schedule if some of you want to keep watch over Dioni this night. Just in case, if you have nothing else to do and don’t work tomorrow, right?”

 

They all nodded, starting to wander around to talk to the visitors, while Gale remained next to the pen, watching the giraffes with Annie.

 

“We’ll have to sedate her…”

 

“I know,” Annie answered Gale, keeping her eyes on the giraffe walking with two small legs dangling from underneath her.

 

“You’ve done that before?”

 

“I have with tigers and lions, but a giraffe? No. We will need to call for help, I can’t do that on my own, Gale…”

 

“Annie, you--”

 

“I’ve never done it - and given the size of the baby, I’m not strong enough. I know they did it in

Bangor like two years ago. I’ll call Steve and Elly, maybe they can come?”

 

“Good idea. I’ll call Alex in Boston, too, if you want?” Gale added, taking his phone out of his pocket. “Right. Maybe we’ll make the call in your office?”

 

 _Clearly they want some kind of privacy_ , thought Peeta as he watched the pair walk away from the pen.

 

“Okay, cut!” Cressida’s voice echoed in Peeta’s ear, as he turned off the camera, putting it down to ease off his shoulder. He turned to face the journalist, noticing the other two teams were coming closer to them.

 

Cressida started speaking again. “Okay guys, I know we’re past our schedule and going into unpaid overtime. But there’s something happening so - volunteers only okay? Who’s up to staying here all night, in case the giraffe gives birth?”

 

“You think she will?” Leevy, one of the other camera operators, asked from her spot next to Peeta.

 

“I don’t know, I’m not a giraffe, I can’t tell you. But I do know it would make a great film, right? And imagine the kids’ reaction to a baby giraffe? I don’t know, I feel like we should stay.” Cressida shrugged. “I’m not asking you to - but if you want, know that I’ll be here and I can handle a camera.”

 

“I’m not loaning you my baby,” Leevy said, holding her camera to her chest. “So it means I’ll stay. I’m quite sure you can’t film without shaking anyways.” She moved closer to Cressida. “And I love baby animals!”

 

One after the other, the film crews made their decision - some going back to their hotel, the others wanting to stay, until it was Peeta’s turn to make a choice. He knew he needed to get back and spend a night in his bed, to let his leg rest, to take his pain pills, to just take a breath. But he had seen Katniss put her name on the list Gale had pinned to the wall.

 

There was something that had attracted him to her from the start, something that made him volunteer to stay that night. Maybe it was the way her braid swayed as she walked, or how her eyes shone as she watched her beloved birds fly around the performance area, or the color her skin took when caressed by the sun. Maybe it was her dry sense of humor, the sound of her laugh when he could hear it - he always volunteered to work at the aviary - or the way her voice would sing even as she talked, he couldn’t tell.

 

He wouldn’t admit to having drawn Katniss a hundred times now, in the privacy of his hotel room. Never before had anyone inspired him as much.

 

So when he had seen her add her name to the list of watchers, he had made his decision. He would stay over and film the birth.

 

\--

At first, there was cheering. But it subsided in the early hours of the evening.

 

The cafeteria had made a meal tray for everyone staying around, building a mood quite identical to a bonfire - cheers and jokes being exchanged, even if there was always an eye and a camera on Dioni in her stable.

 

Soon enough, though, they all realized that something was going wrong. It was just taking too long. The giraffe had been in labor for hours now, with no significant progression so far.

 

Annie was also spending a long time on her phone, apart from the crowd of keepers gathered, still waiting for the baby to arrive. Peeta could sense something was wrong, that the nervousness radiating from the vet was uncommon - that, and the fact that she left the scene, asking to be called when the baby arrived.

 

Realization came to him, as the word spread in his mind.

 

Dead.

 

The baby giraffe was dead. Annie was preparing an intervention to deliver him.

 

He looked around, assessing the faces of the people surrounding him. They were all chatting away, the picture of happiness, even though Peeta could see the concern underneath. He noticed the lack of spark in their eyes, the smiles never big enough to be sincere, the talks not long enough to be cheery.

 

They all knew.

 

They took turns sleeping, which reminded Peeta of another time when there were shifts to share, eyes kept on something unchanging, waiting for worse to come. He could feel the tension building in his muscles from holding the camera too much- he didn’t want to think of another reason for it - yet he knew the worst was yet to be - the delivery of the baby, the reason why Annie left - to gather some rest.

 

He had drawn the bad shift - his way of being a gentleman too, letting Leevy sleep throughout the night, waking at 2AM to be there, just in case the situation evolved.

 

Being awake at dawn in a zoo was an experience. Instead of being surrounded by the silence and peace of an hotel room, his senses were overwhelmed. The sounds of the monkeys climbing in the trees, searching for food or shouting at one another made him jump the first time, not to mention the lions roaring, somewhere, far away, so close.

 

Birds wandered to pick up the food they needed in a display of luxuriant colors - parrots, cranes and smaller birds, all coming closer to where the bag with the remnants of the crew’s dinners was laying, still opened.

 

“It’s strange being here, right?” Katniss said, as she sat next to him.

 

Once again, Peeta hadn’t heard her move next to him. It was a habit of hers, walking so silently she would startle everybody around. She had explained that she needed to be calm and quiet for the birds, but this was taking it to an entire new level. Ninja-like level.

 

“Yeah,” he answered, at a loss of words. How could he explain what he was feeling? That he could remember other peaceful mornings followed by a lot of blood, tears, screams - he was pretty sure blood, cries and tears would be on the program today.

 

“The baby’s dead,” she breathed, as if saying it quietly would make it not true.

 

He nodded. That much he had gathered. “I know.’ Peeta took a deep breath. “What will happen now?”

 

“Annie’s going to have to sedate Dioni.” Katniss shrugged. “I hope it goes well, and we won’t lose the mother too.”

 

“How could that happen?” He asked, wondering what could go wrong. “It’s not that difficult, right?”

 

Katniss shook her head left and right, as she looked at the giraffes pacing on the other side of the large windows of their stable.

 

“It’s not a common anesthesia… Annie will have to sedate Dioni with an arrow, and we have no clue when and where the product will have an effect. She’ll fall on the ground - we just hope she doesn’t break her leg during the process. Or her neck. And Annie’s never done it before.”

 

“Wow.” Peeta hadn’t thought of the consequences of the sedation. Nothing was certain, the risk of losing both animals a reality. A shiver went down his spine as he looked through the windows towards the large stable that suddenly didn’t feel that big if he were a giraffe about to fall to the floor.

 

“You should sleep,” Katniss said as she started to stand before moving closer to where the other keepers were resting, laying all together on the ground under old blankets.

 

Peeta watched as she found her place back, not too far from Gale, curling her body on her side.

 

Her grey eyes found his in the shivering light of dawn.

 

\--

 

Blood.

There was blood everywhere.

On his hands, on the ground.

Everywhere.

 

Blood.

Death.

He is dead.

Not again.

 

Not again.

“NOT AGAIN,” he heard himself scream to the wind.

 

Sweat.

Dripping down his spine.

Following the same path.

Always.

 

Following the same course.

Agonizingly slowly.

 

“It’s not real, it’s not real,” he could himself muttering, trying to get a grip on reality.

The urge to hurt himself was strong - if he could feel pain, he could feel.

Feel.

Not be afraid.

 

Feel.

 

He felt the need to grab the first thing his hands could find, for something to hold onto.

The wooden barrier of the pen was solid enough for his strong hands.

He grabbed it, trying to anchor himself to the reality.

 

Blood - everywhere.

The piercing sound of bullets flying over his head, taking out the soldiers one after another.

 

The explosion - excruciatingly painful.

 

He couldn’t open his eyes.

Everything was shiny.

It burnt.

His eyes were bleeding too.

 

Blood.

Everywhere.

 

Until the cold came rushing.

The cold on his forehead.

The cold on his body.

Taking over.

 

Peeta shivered.

 

Hot and cold.

Cold and hot.

 

Too hot.

Too cold.

 

Until.

Warmth.

 

Sweet warmth.

 

Warm hands on his arms.

 

 

They were just above his wrist, resting without holding, ready to let him go at any simple move he made.

 

He could feel thumbs under his wrist, on the vein as if checking for his pulse, and focused on the feeling of the blood flowing.

 

Blood. More blood- no. He needed to get a grip on his sanity.

 

Thump. Thump.

Thump. Thump.

 

The feel of the hands on his arms.

 

Comforting.

Soothing.

 

He couldn’t open his eyes.

He wasn’t ready for the world around him yet.

Just for the comfort of these two hands on his.

 

Anchoring him to the present.

 

Bringing him back to this reality.

 

One after the other, he could feel his fingers loosen up their hold on the wood, the joints relaxing slowly, as it became easier to take deeper breaths, the air filling his lungs, his veins, his body.

 

He wasn’t ready to open his eyes.

To face the person who was in front of him.

 

He just wanted to run away and hide, hide from his shame and embarrassment, hide from the condescending look the person in front of him would be giving him, hide from his coworkers, hide from the world.

 

But he knew the world would not cooperate, that he would have to face whoever was in front of him. And eventually the people of the zoo. His coworkers, too.

The world.

 

The people who saw him crumble.

 

He could feel the weight of his shame on his shoulders, his head becoming heavier by the minute.

The hands that were holding him to reality started to get lighter, lighter, becoming just the shadow of a touch, the whisper of a holding.

 

Gradually, as his breathing eased, each intake of air becoming easier, he tried to open his eyes, to face the world around him. The first attempts were too difficult, the light too bright, too soon. Though, after a few tries, it became easier to see through squinted eyes - see just enough to see a silhouette appear.

 

Black braid and gray eyes.

 

Because of course, it was Katniss who had come to his rescue.

 


	4. 3.  Ailurus fulgens.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After his breakdown, maybe all Peeta needs is to believe he can be good again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, really, to every single one of your comments on the previous chapter.
> 
> I was afraid you would hate it .... really afraid.
> 
> A little reprieve for our favorite baker, now. Time for him to look at the Red Pandas. (I know, they are the cutest ever.)
> 
> My deepest thanks to @xerxia31 and @dandelion-sunset for their beta skills and their help in making the story right :)
> 
> To @akai-echo you are a true artist, a magician of the images ... thank you for lending me your talent.
> 
> I know, it’s not Monday, but I’ll be busy like a bee tomorrow so ... early present :)
> 
> All comments and reviews are welcome :)

 

 

“Have you written or painted anything lately?”

 

Peeta turned away from the windows he’d been gazing through for a couple of minutes - he had been lost in the simple movement of the willow tree, whose branches had seemed to be swaying with the gentle music of the wind.

 

He looked at Dr. Aurelius, seated in the armchair on the other side of the little table, looking the same as ever, focused on him, the same little smile on the corner of his lips as any other day.

 

And nodded.

 

“Which one?” the doctor asked, curious.

 

Peeta just shrugged. What did it matter to the doctor? 

 

“Peeta…” Aurelius said, sadness in his voice. “You know we’re here to share, right? If you don’t give me anything, I can’t help you…”

 

Peeta knew, yes. But it was easier to look through the windows at the willow tree swaying. He also knew the good doctor would be relentless in his search for answers.

He sighed.

 

“Both.” Now, that should feed the doctor for a while, right?

 

“Both? Write and draw? That’s good, Peeta!” Aurelius’s voice had a slight excitement in it. “Tell me about it!”

 

Peeta shrugged again. “Nothing thrilling, I just keep my journal like you told me. I - I don’t write every day in it, but I try to put in the important stuff.” 

 

“Can I see it?” the doctor asked.

 

“Left it at the hotel. Sorry.” Although Peeta wasn’t sorry at all about forgetting his diary. “But I have my sketchbook.” There. There was nothing wrong with showing the doc drawings of animals. Aurelius couldn’t figure out anything from a few sketches of cheetahs and chimpanzees, right?

 

He searched his satchel until he found the familiar book, holding it out for Aurelius to take.

 

The doctor leaned back into his seat, looking at the drawings. The first ones he was familiar with, having seen them over the months, and he passed over them quickly. He stopped suddenly, his eyes going from the sketchbook to Peeta, back and forth, again and again, until he asked.

 

“When did you start using color again?”

  
  


//

 

The commotion caused by the death of Dionni’s foal faded away, day after day, as it became evident that another giraffe was expecting.

 

With each passing day, Peeta started to relax. It seemed nobody had noticed his strange behavior, his escape from the giraffes’ pen, his breakdown.

 

Nobody mentioned it.

 

Not even Katniss.

 

Every time they filmed at the birds’ area, he tensed a little, expecting her to ask him how he was doing.

 

Every time, she nodded at him, just like she did with the rest of the crew, before turning away to take care of the owls or hawks, or whatever species she was petting that day.

 

He didn’t know what to think. Was she embarrassed that she had come to his help? Mad at seeing him so weak? Afraid he could hurt her? Scared to talk to him?  He didn’t know - he didn’t care to ask. They were always either surrounded by the crew of journalists or other keepers, never really on their own.

 

And hell if he knew how to start the conversation.

 

He felt better as he worked, taking shots of the birds or the keepers, slowly starting to work on the angles or how to capture the light better. Sometimes, he regretted not having the time to take his phone out of his pocket and capture the moment. He relished in watching the dailies, stopping here and there to commit an image to memory - he ended up drawing some of them later, in the peace of his hotel room.

 

The drawing he liked most was of Katniss  flying away a hawk, backlit by the setting sun. He couldn’t see the lines of her face, just her silhouette, black against the sun. Her hair was in its usual braid, although strands seemed to fly around her head. 

 

She was radiant.

 

He was packing his camera - they were done filming for the day - when she surprised him, putting her hand on his arm, making him jump.

 

“Hey... “ she said. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

 

“It’s okay, I was… I was lost in my thoughts. You probably saved me from falling asleep here, he tried to joke, just before he realized Katniss still had her hand on his arm. 

 

“Well, I wouldn’t trust the pelicans to not bother you…” she joked back, before taking her hand away, starting to fidget on her feet. He could feel her eyes on him before she looked away, to the setting sun. 

 

“Pelicans are mean?” he asked, wanting the discussion to go on for days. For years, maybe if he could.

 

“You have no idea… I hope you’ll be there when we clip their wings. It’s quite… a show.”

 

“Well, if there’s a show, I’m sure Cress will want to have it on film.”

 

“Definitely…. Well, listen... I wanted to know…”

 

“Yes?” Her eyes were still looking away from him, as if she was afraid to talk to him. Maybe she was, after all. “Look, Katniss. I’m sorry for what happened... that day, at the giraffes. I’m… I’m getting better. I try. I hope one day…” He shook his head, trying to find a focus on the trees, on the fences - anywhere but looking at Katniss.

 

“I know you do.” He heard her voice, the echo of a whisper carried by the wind. Her words went straight to his heart, giving him the strength to turn his head and look at her. Finally. He was hit by the grey of her eyes looking through him, looking  _ at _ him. Looking over the pain, the sadness, the hurt. Eyes that had the power to bring down the walls he had spent so much time building - if he let her.

 

Today wasn’t that day, though.  He wasn’t sure he wanted anyone to break through those walls. He didn’t know if he was ready.

 

“How could you know that?” he asked instead, wondering how she could know he was trying to improve.

 

He saw her shrug, before she moved her hand up, her pointer finger outlining his orbit.

 

“Your eyes. They were darker on the first day you arrived here. Now, they are bluer - more like a spring sky, with fewer and fewer clouds. I hope someday I’ll see your eyes go to the summer color…”

 

Peeta was taken aback by her answer. How could she have noticed the color of his eyes? “My… eyes?“

 

“They were so cold on that first day… dark blue, uninviting.”

 

“You noticed my eyes?” Peeta was still surprised she had been paying attention to such a detail. 

 

She nodded, before turning her eyes to the sunset.

 

“And that you never take sugar in your tea. You always double-knot your shoes,” Katniss added. “You draw, too.”

 

“How can you know that?” Peeta was completely shocked - but most importantly, completely unprepared for the grey of her eyes that met his.

 

“I’ve seen you… Sometimes you take your notebook and go away, then start drawing….”

“I…” Peeta couldn’t find a word to say. It was true that there were moments when he needed to get away from the noise of the zoo, from the crowd of keepers and journalists, from the visitors gathered in the paths, when the sounds in his head threatened to overcome here too. He would always find peace drawing, whether it was a simple tree or a monkey playing. It just felt… right.

 

“Do you want to see something really cute?” Katniss’s voice cut his line of memories.

 

“What?” He had no clue at all what she could mean. Something cute? But he had nothing to lose - and the bonus to spend a few more minutes in her company. “Sure. What are you talking about?”

 

She smiled brightly before answering. “You’ll see. Follow me!”

 

In seconds she was a few feet away from him, grabbing her walkie talkie to let the other aviary keepers know she would be gone for a few minutes, before turning back to Peeta, still standing next to the birds show area.

 

“You’re coming?” she asked, looking over her shoulder.

  
He followed.

 

\--

 

She led him through the park, avoiding the regular paths, taking the shorter way through the backstages, until they reached the aquatic department, where Finnick was waiting for them.

 

“Be super careful, okay? Sangha and Yang will be looking at you,” he said, opening a wooden door leading to a corner of the park Peeta rarely went to - his leg didn’t do well with water. Not that anyone knew about it, but he rather avoided the space entirely. 

 

They walked along the polar bear pen, circling the lodges where guests were spending the night watching the animals from as close as possible, until they reached the back of the zone.

 

“It’s all yours Kitty Kat. Remember, don’t touch them.”

 

“I know. Thanks Finn.”

 

“No problemo. Gotta go, it’s my turn to pick up Sam! See ya!” With a wave, Finnick was gone, jogging back towards the backstages.

 

“Follow me…” Katniss whispered to Peeta, once Finn was out of sight. 

 

She climbed over the small wooden fence that led to a pen Peeta had never seen before. What seemed so easy for Katniss was an insurmountable obstacle for him. There was no chance he could climb over the four foot fence with his prosthetic - the risk of falling was too high.

 

“Is there a door?” he asked shyly.

 

“Come on, Peeta, we’re young, come over. It’s not forbidden if you’re with a keeper.”

 

He knew he couldn’t do it.

 

He knew he couldn’t let her see his leg either.

 

“Come on, Peeta! Jump over!” she teased, her voice charged with laughter. She was already on the other side, walking over the small stream, her hair shining under the still setting sun.

 

He couldn’t.

 

It was better to back away, to leave before she discovered how damaged he was. There was no chance of anything happening between Katniss and him. No chance. She was life - he was death.

 

He looked at her, now on the other side of the stream, walking away from him. 

 

He turned back.

 

Head down, he started walking back to where he knew he would find the path towards the exit of the park, but couldn’t even get further than a dozen feet when a hand caught his arm.

 

“I thought you wanted to see...?”

 

“I can’t. Let me go, please.”

 

“Why can’t you? I thought you wanted to?”

 

“I just… I can’t.” He wasn’t ready to admit to the awesome woman in front of him that he couldn’t even jump over a fence, when it was something she did naturally, like breathing. He was so out of her league. He tried to leave, to get out of the hold she had on his arm

 

“Come on, it’s nothing. And there are ba--”

 

“I can’t, okay!” His voice had risen. “Now, will you let me go?” He was on the verge of breaking down, and he knew it. He could feel the tears coming to his eyes, the usual knots in his stomach, the sadness overwhelming him. He needed to go.

 

“No,” she answered, the grip on his arm seemed tighter, stronger.

 

“Let. Me. Go!” he almost shouted, remembering at the last second they weren’t alone in the park.

 

“No.”

 

“Why?” 

 

“Because I can’t.”

 

“You can’t?” his voice was hoarse, even for him. “This is hilarious! Of course you can! Get your hand off my arm! Or…”

 

“Or what?” She answered. 

 

“I could hit you!!!”

 

He felt her eyes on him when she spoke.

 

“You won’t, Peeta.”

 

Maybe it was the end of a too long day, or the stress of filming, or maybe just the way she said his name that broke the dam of tears. One after the other, they fell on his cheeks, slowly at first, until it was too much.

 

“I have a fake leg, okay? I’m a war veteran, I can’t jump over the damn fence! Now will you let me go?”

 

Katniss didn’t answer.

  
Not with words. 

 

She used the hold she had on his arm to move closer, throwing her other arm around his neck, hugging him to her.

He wanted to get away from her, he really wanted to - but found out he couldn’t move from her embrace, the warmth of her body was something he didn’t want to lose - it had been too long since someone had hugged him like that.

 

He didn’t know what to do - didn’t know if he should hug her back or not. 

 

She was the one who pulled away before he could make a fool of himself, even if her hand remained on his arm. It was a light touch, this time.,l Then she slid her hand down, twining her fingers through his.

 

“We’ll go through the door, then,” she whispered, pulling him after her.

 

He followed.


	5. 4. Pelecanus onocrotalus.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Only a few days left at the Zoo for Peeta - but will he Survive the Pelican Operation ?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To my friends, xerxia and dandelion-sunset – thank you so so much for your beta skills and for challenging me, always …  
> To my akai-echo … you stun me everytime, with the art you create for my stories … you are a gem.  
> As usual, please please leave a message, a comment, an ask, anything to let me know whether you liked this chapter or not.

 

 

Over the weeks, time and time again, Peeta found himself in the red pandas’ pen, watching the babies grow from the cutest fur balls ever to toddlers trying to get out of the nest. 

Katniss was always the one to suggest they go monitor their growth, that it could be good for the show - the pandas had always been a favorite of the visitors - if he could get more images of them.

  
  


He always ended up taking pictures with his own phone, rather than the professional camera.

He always ended up staying later than anyone else when he went to visit the pandas.

He ended up staying later than anyone else when Katniss was working.

  
  


He pretended it was pure luck that they seemed to end their days at the same time. There was so much to catch at the zoo in the few remaining days, they had to spend there. Peeta tried to take as much shots of the everyday life of the place as he could, whether it was the crowds of people walking the paths, looking at the animals with big round eyes, or keepers  stealing time with their animals, taking the time necessary to make them feel home. 

  
  


Peeta always tried to take the unexpected shots, the one nobody else would dare to take. He once waited for hours just to see a bear plunging into the pond under his waterfall, relishing in the cool water, mouth open to suck the droplets. The shot had been one that the network praised, that made the zoo happy - that made everyone happy.

  
  


He started taking more and more of those kind of shots, always lingering on the southern side of the park. He kept telling himself it was because the ground there was almost flat, making it less painful walking on his prosthetic - and being near the aquatic department was a sure bet to have fun with Finn - all the while being very close to the aviary.

  
  


Very close to Katniss.

  
  


Not that he did it on purpose, mind you. He just happened to be there when she was too, right?

  
  


Like the particular Thursday when he found himself in the most funny day of his life. Everything started with the daily dispatch of the tasks for the camera crews. The keepers usually shared information about their sectors, about what was going to happen, or if anything special would occur which would be good for the cameras.

  
  


That Thursday, though, Gale started with an unexpected pitch. “Ladies and gentlemen, it’s Operation Pelican Day. We’ll need as many volunteers as possible for this adventure. Do we have any volunteers, or do I have to ask Effie to pick some of you?”

  
  


The journalists and cameramen all looked at each other, trying to decipher the meaning behind Gale’s words. Operation Pelican? Pick people? Were they in an alternate version of the latest dystopian movie?

  
  


“For our new friends here, let me tell you this - it’s worth seeing. And filming.” Gale answered the silence plea of the journalists - without giving away too much. “We have to clip their wings today.”

  
  


Peeta wondered if that was supposed to help them understand how big a day it was, how Gale thought it could make good television. But it didn’t.

  
  


As things turned out, it made hilarious television.

  
  


The camera crews discovered very early in the day that being able to clip the wings of the pelican implied being able to catch it first. Which seemed easier said than done. 

  
  


Peeta tried to do his job as professionally as possible. 

  
  


He really tried. As did his colleagues.

  
  


Castor nearly collapsed on the ground laughing several times.

  
  


It all started with a group of keepers gathering around the pond, like soldiers getting ready for a war, Gale dispatching them at “strategic locations”, urging them to hide as much as possible.

Because obviously, 

  
  


They were all witnesses to the greatest spectacle they’d ever seen. Several keepers were hidden around the pelican pond with large nets, trying to catch the birds that were sliding slowly across the water, failing almost every time. Added to that crowd, Gale was on a small boat, paddling around with Johanna behind him with her own dip trying to catch the pelicans escaping the pond.

  
  


And try they did.

  
  


Pelicans turned out to be very sneaky birds, who easily avoided every attempt at being caught. They swam away from the banks of the pond every time they came close to a keeper, as if they could sense their presence nearby, teasing them as they slid away from them, a mere inches from the tip of the nets trying to catch them.

  
  


Reinforcements were brought in, in the form of a small boat, complete with a floating team, ready to catch the birds.

  
  


If they could.

  
  


Gale made a first crossing, paddling the boat to the small island in the middle of the pond to drop one of the trainee keepers with a larger net, before taking Johanna, armed with a fishnet, on board with him.

  
  


Then began a game of hide and seek, between all the keepers, who kept jumping from behind the bushes or  trees where they were hidden, and the birds, who kept escaping the nets thrown at them. Endlessly.

  
  


Causing Johanna to fall into the pond’s water twice. Causing Ellen, the trainee, to fall on her behind three times, and to escape the dangerous beaks of the birds twice as many times. Causing a gathering of keepers and visitors around the pond to laugh at the adventures of the keepers - who weren’t the last ones to laugh either.

  
  


Making it even more difficult to catch the birds.

  
  


Peeta felt like he had fallen into an episode of Laurel and Hardy, the implausibility of the scene unfolding before the lens of his camera - and yet, it was real. Very real. Everybody was having fun, trying to catch the birds. He could even ear Annie’s laugh, clear like the morning, as she was nearby, waiting for her “patients” to arrive.

  
  


He could feel something bubbling in him, something from deep down he wasn’t able to immediately identify that started to make his belly warm. Something he hadn’t felt in a long time.

  
  


When Gale and Johanna both fell out of the boat, he knew.

  
  


For the first time in more than a year, he heard it. The sound of his laughter, coming from his throat, spreading through his body, relaxing his muscles and joints, relaxing his jaw, releasing endorphins.

  
  


For the first time in more than a year, he laughed. 

  
  


Laughed at keepers trying to catch pelicans, laughed at their own cries of joy, laughed at the life pouring out of them, that seemed to come into him, making his breathing easier, his burden lighter.

  
  


“You should laugh more often.” A soft voice came from behind him, so soft he might think it was the wind talking. But it was her, of course. “I like the sound of your voice.” She added, before moving, passing in front of him, as she shouted at the disheveled crowd of keepers.

  
  


“Come on, it’s only five pelicans! We can do this guys!”

  
  


Katniss walked straight to the bank of the pond, on the opposite side of where the pelicans were gathering.

  
  


“I’ll divert their attention so you can grab them,” she told the other keepers, before she started making noise with her mouth to attract the birds.

  
  


Which led to the capture of two of them, whose wings were clipped by Annie immediately before they were put in a transport box until all the birds were done with.

  
  


Which happened in a matter of minutes.

  
  


When the pelicans were all back onto the water, as if nothing had happened, Katniss turned back to the group of soaked keepers gathered around. “So, once again, the aviary saves the day, right? The drinks are on you guys!” 

  
  


Peeta watched the crew from the aviary depart, leaving the rest of the keepers to deal with the mess the pelicans made. Everywhere around, he could see long, white feathers on the ground or in the bushes, even in the hair of the keepers. 

  
  


Katniss came closer to him as she was making her way out of the Pelicans Pond, closer than was necessary. He was putting his camera down, getting ready to move to the next pen they were supposed to film, when she stopped right next to him, leaning in slightly to talk just to him.

  
  


“I hope you can make it tonight…. It will be at Sae’s, at seven.”

  
  


She moved away from him, swiftly, with the grace of the animals she loved so much. Her words lingered in his ears, a soft music echoing in his mind, soothing him, quieting his demons.

She had that power over him, he realized, to bring the calm back with just a word or a touch, just like she had done at the giraffes’ pen a few weeks ago, bringing him back from his flashback.

  
  


He stopped packing his camera, a thought crossing his mind.

  
  


His last flashback had been with the giraffes. 

Weeks ago.

  
Weeks.

  
  


Not days.

Weeks.

  
  


Almost two months ago.

  
  


When he was used to have one or two per week.

  
  


He didn’t know what had happened here to stop the attacks. Maybe it had to do with him being focused on work again, or being outside every hour of the day, or the animals, he really didn’t know. 

  
  


All he knew was that he felt better - so much better than the first day he had walked into the zoo.

  
  


“Mellark? You coming?” 

  
  


Turning his head, Peeta saw his teammates walking away from the pond. His epiphany had obviously taken more time than he thought, but for once it didn’t matter. He packed quickly, jogging to catch up to his co workers, a slight smile on his face.

  
  


If he could go two months without a flashback, maybe he could go way longer. Maybe, there was hope for him, at the end of a very long tunnel.

  
  


He found himself outside of Sae’s dinner a few minutes before seven, wondering whether he should go in or not. Sure, he was pretty sure Katniss had invited him, but would he be welcome there? Would the other keepers, and the staff he wasn’t used to dealing with, be happy to see him?

  
  


“Bread Boy! You coming in or not?”

  
  


Peeta turned his head towards his name, seeing the now familiar face of Johanna looking at him, holding the door opened with one of her hands, the other waving at him to come closer.

  
  


“I don-”

  
  


Johanna carefully closed the door, walking towards him, stopping a few feet away before she started talking.

  
  


“Come in, she’ll be here soon. She just called Gale to say she was leaving.” 

  
  


“I have no clue who you’re talking about, Johanna,” Peeta answered, casually sliding his hands into the pockets of his jeans as he looked inside the diner.

  
  


“Small, black braid, grey eyes? The one you stare at every day? The one who looks at you as if you were the sun itself? You sure have no idea?”

  
  


His eyes snapped back to Johanna. Did he really hear what she just said? Katniss was looking at  _ him _ ?

He never caught her eyes on him, never once. Maybe Johanna was making fun of him...

  
  


Maybe Katniss was too, talking about him with her friends, telling them about his attack…. But no, he hadn’t heard anything about it so far so  He lowered his gaze to the ground.

  
  


“So, you coming in, or not?” Johanna was starting to get impatient, if the stomping of her feet on the ground was a sign.

  
  


“I don’t know… it’s not my scene, really…” The desire to run away was getting stronger and stronger now - the irony he couldn’t run on his prosthetic wasn’t lost on him either.

  
  


“It’s not your scene unless you make it yours. Look, Peeta….” Johanna paused, and he heard her sigh, but it was the sound of his name that made him look up at her. She never called him by his name, always using silly nicknames she seemed to have an endless list of.  “I don’t know what happened to you, and it’s not my business.”  As Peeta started to open his mouth to talk, she stopped him with a wave of her hand.

  
  


‘It’s written all over your face. Or it was, whatever, as I said, not my business. But you have a choice, now. You come in and mingle with us, or you stay out, and keep not living your life. Road’s not taken, and all that Frost shit.”

  
  


Without another word, Johanna turned on her heel, opened the door to the diner, the sound of  music and  conversation flying to his ears. She watched him for a few seconds, holding the door for him, until she shook her head, disappointment on her face when he didn’t move.

  
  


The sound of music and chatter died.

  
  


Peeta remained alone, on the sidewalk, watching through the big windows people having a normal evening.

  
  


For a few seconds, he wondered what would have happened if someone else had held the door open for him - would he have had the same thoughts? Would it have changed what he was doing right at this moment? Watching from afar? 

  
  


Wasn’t it what he always do? Watch from behind the lens of the camera, away from the action, never a real part of it.

  
  


Just a witness.

  
  


Never a participant - even in Afghanistan. He had made images, filmed what happened. From afar, never willing to give his opinion, keeping to what he thought the media would expect.

  
  


Just filming the others.

  
  


His friends, or complete strangers, making stories fit for the news, never the vision he had of a conflict.

  
  


Or of the zoo he was working in.

  
  


Never participating in the life around him.

  
  


Following.

  
  


His brothers, his parents, his friends, orders.

  
  


Maybe it was time to actually do something he wanted. 

  
  


For him, only.

  
  


Peeta shook his head, took a deep breath, then turned to the right, facing the door.

It couldn’t be that hard, right ?

  
  


It wasn’t.

  
  


He was met by the sound of music, unending chatter, forks and knives clicking. 

The sounds of life.

  
  


“Peeta! Come on over!” a voice called after him. Finnick was waving his hand in the air, beckoning him to come closer, showing him the empty chair at his side. “Kitty Kat will have to find another place to sit, right?” the keeper added, smirking.

  
  


“I guess so…” Peeta answered, almost shyly. He took a deep breath, taking the time to let all the smells get into him - some familiar, like Finnick’s faint smell of chlorine he carried with him, some he couldn’t really recognize.

  
  


He bathed in the sounds, in the warmth surrounding him, agreeing to whatever Finnick ordered that was placed in front of him. He bathed in the laughter coming from their table, in the sounds the cooks made, the rock music that played behind them, the colors of the diner - neons flashing pink, the red of the benches , more laughter, more sounds, more noise … 

  
  


Until the familiar tickling in his head started. The first signs of an upcoming attack fell upon him - Everything was too loud, too bright, too shiny - he needed to get out as fast as possible, get away from the crowd, escape or he would found himself hit by a bullet - or a bomb … 

  
  


He couldn’t hear any music anymore, just the sounds of bullets flying around him, teasing him, playing with him.

He could swear the next one would hit him.

  
  


He jumped out of his chair, the pain in his head unbearable.

  
  


Escape was on the other side of the door.

  
  


The cool air hit him right in the face.

  
  


Cool.

  
  


The wind on his face.

  
Sounds, still.

  
Someone shouting.

  
  


At him, most probably. Because that’s who he was. The one people shouted at, because he was always in line to take a good shot.  

  
  


“Go back inside!” he heard a woman’s voice shout.

  
  


“Should we call 911?” someone asked, a man, for all he knew.

  
  


“No. I’ll handle it,” the woman firmly said. The voice was a familiar, though, even if Peeta couldn’t place it. “Deep breaths. Breathe in through your nose, then exhale through your mouth. Slowly. Count to three, yes, just like that. I want to hear you breathe, Peeta.”

  
  


The voice was calm, almost relaxing. Almost soothing.

  
  


“You just breathe, Peeta. Focus only on your breathing, there’s nothing more important than that. Don’t let anything derail you from your breathing. Nothing can disrupt your peace of mind. Nothing. You’re stronger than your fears.”

  
  


Peeta didn’t know if he could trust the voice he was hearing. The ruckus in his head was stronger, maybe, the demons too strong for him. It was easier to get lost in them than to fight.

He had no reason to fight.

  
  


“What’s going on? What happened? What are you doing, Jo?!”

  
  


He heard another voice, through the noise in his head, through the pain and commotion. It was a sound he knew, something he could hold onto. Someone he knew he could trust.

  
  


A link back to reality.

  
  


Peeta forced all of his will to hang onto the voice that had struck through his mind like a lightning.

He forced his nails to dig deeper, harsher into the skin of his palms, to make the monsters go away.

He didn’t want to lose his grasp on reality.

  
  


He failed.

  
  


 


	6. 5.Saimiri sciureus sciureus.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The road's been quite bumpy for Peeta in this story, right ?  
> Maybe it's time for a bit of healing ….

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My endless gratitude goes to my dear friends for their help in this rather heavy story... No rainbows and unicorns in this one, right ?
> 
> To xerxia – you are a precious gift. Your friendship means a lot to me – and you know it:)  
> to dandelion-sunset – without your help at these difficult moments, (the ones I wanted to delete), this story wouldn't be there.  
> To akai-echo – your art is just so so so … beautiful – that doesn't even start to describe it !
> 
> There will be one more chapter and an epilogue after this one:) Hope you'll stay till the end:)
> 
> As usual, reviews, comments are welcome

 

 

  
  


Peeta woke up to the sound of voices, muffled by some distance, or walls, or both, he couldn’t really say. His head was hurting, his muscles were sore. Opening his eyes, he was blinded by the light.

 

He sat up, looking around him. Last he remembered, he had been outside of a diner, having an episode in front of all the crew from the zoo, and he could tell the place he was now was far from being the pavement of a street. It looked more like the living room of a house or an apartment, if he could trust the comfortable couch he was sitting on.

 

He could still hear the voices, more clearly even, as if their owners were fighting. Standing up, he assured both his legs were steady enough to walk, before making his way towards where the sounds were coming from, only to find Gale and Katniss.

 

Apparently arguing.

 

“He’s dangerous, Catnip!”

 

“He isn’t! Don’t your remember your dad?”

 

“It’s not the same!”

 

“Of course it isn’t… because it was a mine, right? The suffering is different? Because only your dad had the right to suffer from PTSD?”

 

“I swear, Katniss, you’re -”

 

“Insufferable? Stubborn? Thank you, I know. I can handle myself, Gale. You don’t need to protect me.”

 

“Of course I do! I …”

 

Peeta turned away, not wanting to hear the rest of the conversation, walking slowly back to the living-room. He spotted his jacket, carefully draped on the back of a chair, his wallet and keys placed on the table in front of him.

 

He eased into the familiar leather he had carried around the world, grabbed his keys

 

“Stay, please.”

 

Katniss’s voice surprised him, stopping his motion. He closed his eyes. He couldn’t believe the power her voice had over him.

How two little words could warm him, soothe him, calm him.

 

He knew too that he couldn’t let his heart get in the way of his head.  He felt her hand on the sleeve of his jacket.

 

“Let me go, Katniss.” His voice was pleading, begging her to release the grasp she had on his arm, on his life, on him.

 

He opened his eyes, finally meeting the silver of hers.

 

“I can’t,” she answered

 

Peeta shrugged, trying to get away from her, trying to get away from her, from her smell, from her eyes. 

 

The grip she had on his arm was too strong. Or maybe he was too weak.

 

Or maybe both.

 

He didn’t know.

 

His mind suddenly caught up with her words.

 

“What- What do you mean?” He couldn’t fathom what she could have meant with those two words.

 

He watched as she closed her eyes, as she took a breath. He was sure the silence between them lasted for two eternities, at least.

 

“Just what I said. I won’t let go. Unless you really want me out of your life....”

 

Did he? Did he really want to get out of Katniss’s life, forever? Did he really want to never see the brightness of her eyes, the grey shining like diamonds? Or know how her skin felt under his lips? Or never be by her side, just walking?

 

Peeta could feel his heart shrieking at the thought of never seeing Katniss again.

 

Could he? 

 

“No…” 

 

That’s all his mind was capable of saying.

 

But for once, the torment in his head wasn’t one he feared.

 

\--

It was amazing, the course a simple leaf took just to fall from its branch. It never fell straight down, rather choosing a complex route made of twists and turns, falling before rising a little, as if it never wanted to touch the ground.

 

Peeta was watching, captivated, as a leaf tried to fall, even so silently.

 

“So, Peeta. What happened after your passed away?”

 

_ Episode _ . That’s what Dr. Aurelius always called his attacks. As if the word “dissociation” was too heavy, too dangerous to handle, as if there was a risk of contagion when saying it. So he used “episode”, like it was a part of a tv show. 

 

Peeta shrugged. “I woke up?”

 

He saw the small smirk the shrink tried to hide behind his mask of seriousness. He knew it wouldn’t last long. Dr Aurelius was a consummate pro, had helped him throughout most of his PTSD.

 

Peeta sighed, watching another leaf start its journey downward.

 

“I was at a friend’s place… She, well, she told me things that made my mind go all fuzzy.”

 

“You had another episode?” Aurelius immediately asked, concerned.

 

“No… not exactly, I can’t explain. It was... strange? Weird? Like I didn’t expect what she told me, and didn’t know how to handle it? I mean, I was speechless. And that never happens, doc.”

 

“What did this friend of yours say that made you so?”

 

Peeta shifted in his seat, not sure he wanted to share that level of detail with the doctor. It was like an intrusion in his and Katniss’s privacy.

 

Even though he needed answers.

Desperately.

 

He could feel the sweat on the back of his neck, slowly dripping down his spine.

 

Dr Aurelius was still looking at him, patiently waiting.

 

Gathering all his courage, Peeta took a deeper breath, before speaking. “She told me she couldn’t let me go.” He avoided the doctor’s gaze, suddenly feeling like a thirteen year old teenager confessing his crush. “I have no clue why she said so, or what she means.”

 

“Maybe she only means she doesn’t want you out of her life, Peeta.”

 

“That doesn’t make any sense! Can’t she see I’m damaged goods? She should run away from me!” Peeta stood up, walking straight to the windows, not wanting to see the look in Dr. Aurelius’s eyes. “Twice, doctor. Not once, but twice! She saw me fall apart two times! Sobbing like a fucking child!”

 

He was hanging on the edge of the windowsill, clutching it with both hands, anger taking over. 

 

“I think this is the first time I’ve seen you angry, Peeta. I’m so proud of the progress you’re making.” Aurelius said, surprising Peeta once more, making him turn to look at the good doctor. “I’ve seen your fear, your disgust, your tears over the year we’ve worked together, but lately, you’ve let me see your sadness, your joy, and now your anger? I hope you realise you’re making progress.”

 

“Wait.. What?” Surprise, shock were etched all over Peeta’s face as he tried to understand the meaning behind Aurelius’s words. “It’s good to be angry?”

 

“Well, of course. It’s a basic emotion, like fear,  disgust, sadness or joy. You cannot have one without the other. It’s a part of what makes you, you.” The doctor paused before taking off his glasses, cleaning them carefully on his shirt. “And as for what your friend told you, maybe she doesn’t want to let go of you because she cares for you. Maybe she even likes you.”

 

“That’s not possible ….”

 

“Why? Because you lost a leg in the war, because you have PTSD, you must suffer an eternity of loneliness? It’s up to you to decide whether or not you want to let people in.” Aurelius put his glasses back on. “It all depends on whether you allow yourself to move on. Now don’t get me wrong, Peeta. You’ve been doing an amazing job and made so much progress since the first time you came in, there shouldn’t be any doubt in your mind. None.”

 

Peeta looked straight at the doctor, feeling the words sinking into his mind. He knew he had made some kind of progress, but felt like it wasn’t enough.

 

“I still have attacks, doctor! How can that be progress?”

 

“You really expected everything to be healed in a few months? You’ll likely have episodes for the rest of your life, and you know that, we’ve talked about it. Now, you have to choose whether you start living with them as part of your life, or let them guide it.”

 

Peeta fell into his seat, the words difficult to hear, difficult to bear.

 

“Now, will you tell me what happened after she told you she couldn’t let you go?”

 

Peeta sighed. He knew there was no way to get out of it, that when Dr Aurelius had an idea, he followed it until he had all his answers. He shrugged, though, not wanting to give too much away.

“I hugged her, said goodbye, then left.”

 

“Well, that could have been worse,” The doctor said, leaning back in his armchair.

 

Peeta felt a smile creeping up his face. “I didn’t know you provided advice for friendship.”

 

“My boy, you don’t know what this job entails. So, now, this friend has a name?”

 

\--

 

It was strange for Peeta, to be wandering the paths of the zoo freely. No heavy camera to haul everywhere, nobody to follow around, no rushing to film Annie saving an animal, or Gale chasing a bird.

 

He felt relaxed. Filming had ended a mere two weeks ago, two weeks during which he spent his free time thinking about what happened at the diner, at Katniss’s, at the zoo. He was never far from the zoo, though, as he started working with the production crew on the images, on the show. The first episodes were done with editing, and to Peeta’s surprise and joy, it ended up completely different from what he thought it would be.

 

For one, it wasn’t focused on the keepers, their interactions with each other, but rather on their real day to day life. Their love for the animals shone through the screen, the care, the respect, the joy at working with them radiated. He couldn’t help but smile at a scene where Johanna, the fearsome keeper, answered a little girl with such patience and passion.

 

One thing Peeta had been sure of while watching the first episodes was that he could be proud to have been a small part of it.

 

He was watching the little squirrel monkeys - which he knew now were called Saïmiris - chasing each other in their large pen, enjoying themselves. He quickly found Glue, the small monkey whose tail had to be removed by Annie - the little monkey had broken it in a fall, cutting off the circulation to the lower part of it - when he had another thought.

 

The show had shown the life of a zoo. Never cowering from anything. Not from the hurt or death of the animals. Not from the joys or tears of the keepers. 

 

They had filmed life. Real life. With its ups and downs, its laughs and tears, the hurt, the pain.

 

The recovery.

 

They had filmed the healing, both literally and metaphorically. The healing of the animals bodies, the soothing of the human's souls when an animal had passed.

 

They had showed him how to heal.

 

And he haddn’t noticed.

 

He hadn’t seen it, too focused on his pain.

 

Too focused on himself to notice life around him hadn’t stopped.

 

The thought made his mind spin, spin, and spin with all the moments he had missed, too afraid by his PTSD and the repercussions it could have. His niece’s birthday, Christmas with his family, holidays by the lake.

 

He gripped the wooden fence, straightening his hold, breathing deeply. His head was spinning.

This time, though, he wouldn’t let the darkness invade him.

 

He thought of the animals. The smile on Annie’s face when she had first seen the red panda babies. The awe on the children’s faces when they were given branches to feed the giraffes. Finnick’s laughter while playing with the otters in their pool. A big hawk flying into the sun, before landing on a leather gauntlet. The polar bear playing with his huge bucket of ice. A braid dancing in the wind.

 

Katniss’s smile in the sunset, as she watched the red pandas babies with their parents, completely focused on them, while he couldn’t get his eyes of her. Sparkling eyes, tendrils of hair flowing in the evening air, mud on her face, hands dirty. Smiling.

 

Annie’s shy laugh, echoing in the afternoon, after Finnick had thrown her into the otters’ pool.

 

The keepers losing it at Pelican Day.

 

He could recall the sound of his own voice that day, when he had laughed along with them.

 

That’s what he wanted. To laugh again.

 

To live again.

 

He opened his eyes, amazed by the colors he could see around him. The green of the trees, the blue of the sky, the white-grey of the clouds passing by, the grass, greener or lighter depending on the rays of sun.

 

He suddenly realized the darkness in him didn’t stand a chance as long as there were so many colors surrounding him.

 

That fear had no hold on him as long as there was life around him.

 

The cries of the monkeys made him turn, returning him to the here and now - the Zoo, the animals, the crowd around him. He looked at the pen where the saïmirs were jumping from branches to hammocks, clearly enjoying chasing one another, when he realized he could recognize some of them.

 

“Mommy? Do they have names?” a little girl asked her mother next to him.

 

“I don’t know, sweetie. Maybe?”

 

“They do, actually,” Peeta heard himself chime in, turning to face the mother and her child before looking back at the monkeys in front of them. When he found what he was looking for, he pointed one of the animals. “See that one, with the shorter tail? She’s Glue. And the one running after her is Maurice.”

 

“Why is he running after her?” the little girl asked.

 

“Maybe they are playing tag? And can you see that one, hidden in the tree?” Peeta asked, again, shifting the child’s attention to another monkey. At her nod he added, “he’s Gino. He’s a bit shy.”

 

“And he doesn’t want to play tag?” 

 

“Suzie…” the mother chimed in. “You can’t bother this man….”

 

“She’s not bothering me at all. See, this one can’t really play tag anymore.” Peeta said, trying to hid a smile from showing on his face.

 

“Oh, he’s too old?”

 

“Something like that.” Peeta exchanged a look with the mother, not really keen on explaining the mating rituals of the small monkeys. 

 

“Say thank you to this gentleman, Suze, we have to find your father!” 

 

“Thank you mister gentleman!” the girl told him, waving one hand at him while her mother held the other.

 

He couldn’t help his mind forming an image of another little girl, with dark braids and dancing blue eyes, running to him.


	7. Panthera Leo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time for the crews to go back to the Zoo to watch the first episode of the show.
> 
> Will Peeta see Katniss again ? What can happen in the night ?  
> Let's find out, shall we ?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There it is, the last chapter of this story – there’s a small epilogue coming on next Monday but it’s mostly done:)  
> thank you to you, reader, thank you for bearing with me through this difficult story. It hasn’t been a fun ride for Peeta, but there’s light at the end of the tunnel.  
> Trust me when I say it had been a very difficult story to write too.
> 
> My deepest respect goes to the every single person who suffers from PTSD, or panic attacks. Know you’ll always find someone willing to listen to you if need be. Just reach out.
> 
> This story wouldn’t have been out without the help of the incredible @xerxia31 who took on the job of betaing this whole story.  
> This story wouldn’t have been the same at all without the help of the amazing dandelion-sunset who insisted that I keep the PTSD scene when I wanted to delete it. She also beta-ed.
> 
> And to @akai-echo – her art, her aesthetics echo (pun intended) the story – her images are a strong companion to my words. Her vision on my stories is a gift I cherish.
> 
> Well, let’s do this, shall we ? Let’s go see another animal … I hope you liked my little game with the names of the chapters:)

 

 

**6\. Panthera Leo.**

It had been weeks since Peeta last went into the zoo. Three weeks and two days to be precise. Since the day he had spent walking around the park like any other visitor, taking the time to look at the animals, to watch their movements, his fingers itching to draw them on paper.

  
Which he did as soon as he got back to his flat, spending days trying to recreate the face of a monkey, the movement of a bear, or the cuteness of a baby giraffe galloping around the corral. Each stroke of the pen or the brush on the canvas unlocking ideas, colors, motions.

  
  


Suddenly, a whole new set of images were in front of him to paint. Or draw. Or film.

  
  


All that thanks to a show. In a zoo.

  
  


That night, though, he was coming back to the zoo after the park was closed. He was supposed to meet Cressida and Castor, as well as the other teams of journalists, to watch the first episode of the show airing on  Capitol TV. 

  
  


“Peeta! Good to see you again!” Castor’s voice welcomed him as he got out of his car, being careful to place his leg on a stable spot, so he wouldn’t fall.

  
  


“Good to see you too, guys!” he answered, before Castor hugged him. 

  
  


“Been a while, right? I missed working with you, we make a good team!” 

  
  


Peeta nodded at his friend’s words. It had been a good shoot, indeed. Not only for work, but more importantly for himself. He had been able to do his job properly, without his fears getting in the way, without his PTSD interfering… 

  
  


Only Katniss had seen him at his worst.

  
  


Twice.

  
  


Yet she hadn’t run away.

  
  


He was still amazed by her reaction to him.

  
  


He had - barely - been able to keep away from her for three weeks and two days, wanting some distance to be able to think about her, about them.

  
  


He hadn’t been able to keep her out of his mind for long. She was everywhere he looked. In the soft feathers on the pavement, in the grey of the sky, in the laughter of children. Almost everything he saw or heard, felt or tasted reminded him of Katniss.

He had no clue, though, if she felt the same way about him. Sure, he could have asked her out during those three weeks, but something had held him back.

  
  


They had exchanged texts, little everyday chats about their lives. Even if he had enjoyed seeing her name on his phone on a _very_ regular basis, he never wanted to push his luck, just being glad to have any contact with her.

  
  


Maybe one day he would have enough courage and strength to tell her how he felt about her.

  
  


Because Peeta Mellark was pretty sure that along the line, he had fallen in love with Katniss Everdeen.

  
  


“Yeah, it was….” he finally answered Pollux, a smile on his face. “It truly was….”

  
  


“Man, I never imagined I could care about the life of a lion… and look at me now, I only want to go see all the animals and be sure they are well. Next job is going to be tough to top….” Pollux shook his head, as he started walking towards the gates of the park. “You know what you’ll do next?”

  
  


“Na, not yet. I keep hoping the station will ask for more and we get to go back, you know?”

  
  


“Gotcha. It feels good to film something heartwarming for a change. To be part of something… good? I don’t know, the rushes I saw were pretty good and so… different. I hope people will watch.”

  
  


“Me too, really. The guys here, they all deserve it.” Peeta pushed the door to the gift shop open, letting himself in.

  
  


The two men were immediately greeted by one of the vendors, a perky blonde who had caught the attention of almost all the men in the filming crews during the weeks they were there.

  
  


“Pollux! Peeta! So happy to see both of you! Effie’s waiting for all of you to arrive! She’s by the offices, if you remember the way?”

  
  


Peeta nodded before walking to the other door of the shop, shaking his head as he heard Castor’s attempts at flirting with the blonde girl.

  
  


He knew the way. Past the flamingos, follow the river to the chimps, turn left in the middle of the monkey zone, then follow the brick road to the main building, where the offices were. 

  
  


Music lead him to a wooden terrace, where keepers were already standing, talking to one another. A large screen had been put up at the back, with technicians working around, pulling cables, testing the sound for the projection that would take place later.

  
  


Peeta looked around, nodding or waving at the keepers or technicians he had met - which turned out to be almost everyone present - but keeping himself apart from the growing crowd.

  
  


He knew he was hoping to spot a dark braid or silver eyes in the crowd, but was instead met by Finnick’s green eyes, a small smile on his lips.

  
  


“Find what you’re looking for, man?” the keeper winked, before turning around, searching the crowd until he spotted Finnick near the buffet. “Care to join us? Effie says the food is amazing.”

  
  


“I don’t know, Finn, I--”

  
  


“And I know for sure Katniss will be onto the buffet first thing,” Finnick interrupted him.

  
  


Peeta let out a sigh, before looking at the keeper. “Am I that obvious?”

  
  


“Na, don’t worry. But the red pandas are in my sector, remember?”

  
  


Peeta did remember the first time Katniss took him to see the small animals - the cutest in the zoo as per the visitors opinion - it had been an almost magical moment to see those balls of fur in the sunset. He might or might not have drawn the scene several times already.

  
  


“Come on, Peeta, she’ll be there. And they have cinnamon rolls… “

  
  


Peeta chuckled. “I hope they aren’t industrially made….”

  
  


“You’re not one of those food snobs, right?”

  
  


“No. I might come from a line of bakers though.”

  
  


“You do? Why haven’t you told us that before?” The rich, feminine voice took Peeta by surprise. He hadn’t heard anyone approaching Finnick and him, or felt a shift in the air at the presence of the woman he’d been looking for. Guess real life wasn’t like the movies, after all.

  
  


But Katniss was there,  standing right next to him, looking at him as if she expected something - right, she had asked a question, if he could just remember what it was. He looked at the table in front of him.

  
  


“You never asked,” he finally answered. “I thought nobody cared.”

  
  


“That’s where you’re wrong, Peeta. We care. We always have,” Katniss answered.

  
  


“You do?” He couldn’t help the question coming out of his mouth. Did she care enough? 

  
  


“More than you--” 

  
  


“Attention, please!” Effie’s voice broke the moment. Somehow, Finnick had disappeared in the crowd, but Peeta was completely unable to tell how and when. “If you would please gather and take a seat, we’re going to show you the first episode of the show! It’s called “At the Zoo!” Come, come!”

  
  


Effie’s enthusiasm was a perfect match to her outfit - s, pink and glittery, reminding Peeta of a European song contest he had caught on the internet a few years ago. He had needed a few drinks to get over the craziness of it all.

  
  


“You must be eager to see the footage you shot, right?” Katniss asked him as she started walking towards the makeshift stage in front of them, before noticing Peeta wasn’t following. “You don’t want to come?”

  
  


He could almost hear the words he craved lingering in the quiet…  _ with me _ . 

  
  


“Sure,” he answered instead, taking her lead, until she reached the rows of seats in front of the screen.

  
  


“Anywhere you want to sit?” Katniss asked him, again.

  
  


Wait - she was asking him where he  _ wanted  _ to sit? 

  
  


“I thought we could be in the back?” she added, in a whisper, for his ears only.

  
  


“You want to sit together?”

  
  


“You don’t?” Katniss turned to face him, a scowl now apparent, as if she had heard something she didn’t like.

  
  


“Of course, but…. You’re not…” Peeta was looking for the right word. Disgusted, afraid, anxious passed through his mind, a constant reminder of who he had become.

  
  


Warms skin on his hand tore him apart from his thoughts. He lowered his eyes, to see it was Katniss’s hand, small and callused. He looked back at her, surprised by the intensity of her silver eyes.

  
  


“I’m not afraid of you, Peeta. Or whatever word crossed your mind right now. I want to sit with you, but only if you want to.”

  
  


He watched as she tucked a lock of wild hair behind her ear, as she  lowered her eyes, shifting on her feet, as if she were unsure of him, of herself.

  
  


Peeta felt his brain working a mile a minute. She _wanted_ to be next to him, even after everything. After seeing him break down not once, but twice… she touched him, in the dark, doing what he hadn’t dare initiate. 

He felt something else surging through him. Something good, something he could name.

  
  


Hope.

  
  


\--

  
  


They finally settled into two seats in the back, side by side. So close, but Peeta was itching to get even closer, to discover who Katniss was, to uncover every secret she had.  She smelled like the wind, a mix of trees and flowers and something he couldn’t place, something utterly… Katniss. He wanted to bottle her scent and keep it with him forever.

  
  


A man was standing on the platform, in front of the screen, explaining that the station was trying a new format, with no interruption for commercials, that the program was kid-oriented and that he hoped they would enjoy the show.

  
  


The lights went out, he only illumination came from the stars above them.

Silence fell.

  
  


On the screen, colorful images and happy music accompanied the main theme, introducing some of the keepers and their animals. 

  
  


As the first few minutes passed, showing the different keepers, their everyday tasks as well as the main animals, Peeta found himself smiling slightly at the images he knew were his own, recognizing a cut here and there, happy to see his footage again on the screen. 

  
He felt like he was able to express himself, after so long. As if he had found his voice again.

  
Even if it was only for a kids’ zoo show.

  
  


His breathing became a bit deeper, a bit easier. As if a weight had been lifted from his chest. A weight he didn’t even know he was bearing.

  
  


He almost jumped out of his chair when he felt something brushing the side of his pinky finger.

  
  


He was barely more prepared when it happened again.

He didn’t dare move, in hopes he would feel it a third time.

  
  


He couldn’t focus on the screen anymore. All his attention was in the skin of his little finger. He closed his eyes as he felt it again, skin on skin, heat on heat.

  
  


Three times the charm, they say.

  
  


Maybe it was time to take a chance on life.

  
  


The panthers were roaring on the screen when he let his finger brush along Katniss’s for the first time. They were playing with an ice cube when he twined his fingers with hers.

  
  


\--

  
  


Peeta didn’t want to leave the zoo.

  
  


The screening has been a success, the crowd cheering at the end, purely out of pride and joy of seeing the animals, the park and the keepers on screen.

He had spent the remainder of the screening holding Katniss’s hand, letting his thumb caress her skin repeatedly, until they both had to stand and follow the others to celebrate at the buffet.

  
  


They had been separated by the crowd, by their own coworkers who wanted to talk to them about the show, to celebrate, to think of what they could feature for another season if the public wanted to see more.

  
  


Peeta only wanted a few more minutes with Katniss.

  
  


Alone.

  
  


He could see her, lingering on the edge of the makeshift stage, in a conversation with Gale and his girlfriend. He wanted to get closer to her, talk to her, hold her hand again.

  
  


He didn’t dare hope for more.

  
  


In the blink of an eye, she was gone. He couldn’t see her anywhere.

  
  


Regret fell on him, as he realized she had left the scene, maybe even the park. Him.

  
  


His phone buzzed.

  
  


Two words shone in the night. 

_ Panthera Leo. _

  
  


He smiled.

  
  


Peeta excused himself quickly, before heading into the night.

  
  


He wound his way through the labyrinth of the zoo, until he reached the familiar pen.

  
  


The lion was sleeping peacefully under the stars, his broad mane spread around him, the very picture of the king of animals.

  
  


“Took you long enough…” her voice whispered in the dark. She was somewhere around, in the shadows of the bamboos around him

  
  


“I thought you had left.” He hoped his voice wasn’t shaking.

  
  


“I thought you weren’t coming…”

  
  


“Katniss…. Where are you?”

  
  


She didn’t answer. He was looking around at the trees, squinting to try to find her.

  
  


He didn’t need to.

  
  


He felt her hand on his shoulder, slowly sliding down his arm, until her palm met his, until her fingers linked with his, again. He felt the joy spreading in his body, as he turned, taking her all in. Eyes shining in the grey of the moon, hair glistening with the rays of the stars, her skin glowing. 

  
  


He only wanted to get even closer to her.

He leaned into her, until his forehead touched hers.

  
  


He knew he should pull away, he really did try to step away from her embrace. Something was holding him into the now and then, into the moment. Maybe it was her hands on him, maybe it was his treacherous heart, maybe it was his mind, so much clearer now after his weeks at the zoo, after his weeks next to her.

  
  


She didn’t let go of him, though, looking straight into his eyes.

  
  


“What are we doing?” Peeta whispered, to the night, to the stars, to her. “I’m… I’m damaged goods, Katniss… We shouldn’t…” he stuttered, not sure what to say anymore. “I shouldn’t be here, with you…”

  
  


She shut him up, putting her index fingers on his lips. She didn’t break the connection they had, their foreheads still touching, as if she didn’t want to break the bubble they were in.

  
  


“We’re all damaged, Peeta. I was broken once too. Am I damaged goods?”

  
  


“No!”

  
  


“Then why do you call yourself damaged goods?”

  
  


“You don’t know what I went through, Katniss…” he whispered. He could hear the pain in his voice.

  
  


“Then you’ll tell me. Not today, when you’re ready. You don’t know what I went through either…. But someday, I’ll tell you.” 

  
  


“Are you sure you will want to know?” he whispered.

  
  


“Yes.” Katniss said, a definitive answer as he felt her hair, like a caress on his skin - her braid had shifted with the wind, whispers of hair touching his jaw.

  
  


“You really want to know?”

  
  


She didn’t answer. He felt her hands, small, warm on his cheeks, anchoring him more to the moment.

  
  


He could see through the will in her grey eyes, the spark, and something more - he wasn’t sure what it was… he did not dare…  _ hope. _

  
  


Hope.

To have a life back, starting there, in the zoo, with her.

  
  


He thought Afghanistan had burned all his hopes.

  
  


Turned out a dark-haired falconer could just restore them.

  
  


“I want to know, Peeta,” she whispered. “But only when you’re ready - and if--” she looked him straight in the eyes, “if you want to tell me. If... if you want me?”

  
  


Her voice was barely above a whisper - meant for his ears only. Not for the quiet of the night, or the animals nearby. Not for the birds in the trees, singing their laments to the sun, or for the moon, appearing in the shadows of the sun.

  
  


Just for him.

  
  


She asked if he wanted her.

Her.

  
  


There was nothing he wanted more.

  
  


He nodded - just a simple move of his chin.

  
  


She smiled.

  
  


She took the final breath of air between them, pressing her lips firmly to his.

  
  


Just a whisper of a kiss before she pulled away.

  
  


He knew he was selfish, wanting more. So much more. Peeta wanted her lips on him forever, wanted to live in her mouth - that’s where he knew he belonged. 

  
  


He lifted his hands to cup her face, using his thumbs to caress her cheeks, giving her plenty of time to move away from him, if she chose to. He let his eyes meet hers, let himself got lost in the grey that was shining, expectant.

  
  


This time, he was the one who pressed his lips to hers, who tasted the beer on her, who started mapping her mouth, taking his time exploring, tasting, teasing. He was drunk on her, she was becoming an addiction he never would be able to give up.

  
  


He let his tongue taste her too, surprised when she immediately opened her mouth to him, swallowing her moan, losing himself in her a bit more. 

  
  


He kissed her until his lungs screamed for oxygen.

  
  


Then they kissed again.

 

 


	8. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Epilogue, set five, ten, fifteen years later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it. The end of the road for Peeta in … what can we hope besides a total recovery, a happy life ?  
> To be honest, I had a completely different epilogue in my head, with Peeta and Katniss going to Namibia to see the animals.  
> But somehow, it never worked.  
> Again, my deepest thanks to @xerxia31 and dandelion-sunset for their beta skills and help in this story.  
> To akai-echo ... words cannot describe the beauty of the artwork you did for this story. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart.

I draw because I have too many images in my head, the only escape being to put them on paper.

I used to draw images of chaos, of death, of blood.

They still come, sometimes, those images, still try to invade my life.

But there are so many other now. Birds flying against the sun. A smile that’s just for me. Kids playing in the park. A dog sleeping on a rug. 

A hand. Bearing a simple gold band.

The darkness will never win.


End file.
